Kabuki
by vulgar shudder
Summary: Duo is dragged to a traditional Japanese theatre production. But will his ignorance of Kabuki conventions lead to confusion? AU, yaoi, cross-dressing
1. Nichou

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or it's characters, neither do I have anything to do with the actors and plays mentioned in this fic __

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or it's characters, neither do I have anything to do with the actors and plays mentioned in this fic.

Warnings: AU, (artistic) Cross-dressing, (eventual) Yaoi, (kinda) OOC and if I told you the pairings it'd spoil it.

Author's Notes: Now…this is my experimental romp in the creative woods. I've done some research, but of course I'm unlikely to have got much correct. Creative license…

****

Kabuki

Nichou

Duo Maxwell frantically searched for his friend amid the mass of people in the theatre lobby. He was late as usual. People crowded in small clumps, socialising and creating a din of noise.

Quatre had to be here somewhere.

Duo dodged yet more people, before he spotted who he was looking for. When he was able to finally get to Quatre's group, Duo bent over resting his hands on his knees, trying to get his breath back. He stood straight starting his apologies, "I'm sorry, the traffic was hell and I couldn't find the theatre…"

He trailed off as he saw the amusement that played in Quatre's eyes. The blond gave a warm smile and said "It's okay, we were only having some drinks before the show."

Duo rubbed some of his bangs away from his eyes, and glanced at Quatre's colleges. They all wore suits, with freshly pressed shits, ties…oh god. The American wondered if the businessmen were noticing his own attire—his favourite zip up turtle neck and leather jacket. It looked like he was slightly under dressed.

Quatre started introducing his work mates, and Duo dually grinned and shook hands.

"This is Richard McMichale, and Balbinder Dhaliwal…"

The braided man's smile stayed fixed as the list of names washed over him. Smile and nod, smile and nod…

Finally the introductions were finished, and a conversation about share prices continued.

Duo fixed his eyes on some random spot, and tried to look interested in the discussion.

Quatre's company was sponsoring the performing Theatre Group's tour, and had of course been offered complementary tickets. Trowa wasn't able to make the show, and Quatre had offered Duo the ticket.

He'd not been able to refuse the offer as he'd looked into Quatre's hopeful blue eyes. But Duo had never really been into this arty stuff…it all just seemed above him.

The blond caught Duo's eye and indicated they were going to sit in their seats now.

Duo's smile never wavered.

Quatre now talked enthusiastically about the Theatre Company.

"In Japan they're very famous." He was nearly bubbling as he spoke, "It's run and starred in by a family who have been Kabuki actors for generations, now it's the father and son…"

Duo's mind started drifting off again…Japanese huh? So does this mean that it's not in English? He really had no idea about this kind of thing.

The group entered the theatre stalls, and walked to the front seats. The stalls were already filling up, and glancing up saw the heavens filled too.

Finally the entourage was at their reserved row, and everyone started taking seats. Duo sat on the end next to Quatre.

The American looked with curiosity at the stage. A passageway connecting Duo's side of the stage with the back of the hall through the spectators' seats at about head level of the audience. 

A noise to his side brought Duo's attention back to his blond friend. In his hand was a small blue box from which he unwound a wire attached to a small ear piece.

"Quatre, what's that?"

The Arab looked up surprised. "It's the translation ear piece [1], didn't you rent one?"

Duo tried to control his groan; the entire play was in Japanese…well duh! He must have missed the stand renting them out in his hurry to get here on time. Great. He made his excuses to his friend and settled down into the plush red chair. This was going to be a long show.

With that thought, wooden clappers and foreign chanting began. The striped curtain that reminded Duo of a deck chair started to slide across to reveal the scenery of the first set.

~~

Duo watched the characters on stage conversed poetically in Japanese, he had no idea what they were saying, but it sounded nice.

The show seemed to be comprised of two plays. The first the American found deeply confusing…it was something about these two guys trying to catch women with fishing poles [2]. The Kabuki theatre seemed comprised of larger than life gestures, traditional costumes and a boom-crash orchestra.

Which is all very well and fine but to understand the plot would be nice.

Duo sunk even further into his seat, it looked like the second play was starting now. People immediately hushed as the performers started entering the stage. 

The American couldn't help but hold his breath as the star of the show made her grand entrance.

Duo looked closely, and she was wearing kimonos of orange and red. A yellow over robe covered most of the reds, and the longs sleeves and train that slid on the floor behind her hazed to a strong tone of magenta. Around her waist was a deep purple sash, tied in an elaborate bow at the front [3].

The lead actress gracefully glided to the centre of the stage, her robes fluttering with her short strides. 

All visible skin was masked in a pure eggshell white; her lips and eyes outlined in a vibrant red. Her long black hair was styled smooth to hold combs and ornaments. She reminded Duo of a geisha he'd seen in a book.

The chestnut haired man heard a couple of people shout from the rows of seats behind him, "Yuiro-ya!" [4] He looked back briefly, but no one had said anything more. The braided man was confused, why did people shout? Were they heckling the beautiful performer?

The star's mere presence seemed to hold command and attention, especially when anyone got caught in her clear blue eyes.

The actress started speaking and Duo felt himself being lost in the stream of foreign words.

The play started to look a lot more interesting. 

~~

The performance was nearing its tragic ending. Duo again had difficulty following the plot, but that didn't matter anymore, his attention was now focused on the female lead.

Duo's eyes followed each and every graceful and controlled movement of Ohatsu (he'd asked Quatre what her name was), as she lay on the floor embracing her lover.

She spoke tearful words of encouragement to the man, and pressed a knife into his hand. He embraced her again, before raising the knife. [5]

The music slowed, and the curtain started to come down. People around the theatre had started applauding loudly, which only grew when the curtained raised again to show the entire cast standing in a row. They bowed in unison, and the curtain fell again.

The clapping continued at full strength, when the curtain rose once more. But now it was just the female lead. She took a slow deep bow, the applause growing louder and a few calls from the Japanese audience members.

Duo couldn't help himself; he stood up to clap. As Ohatsu slowly rose, Duo was absolutely certain her cobalt blue eyes made contact with his own for a brief second.

__

To Be Continued

[1] An ear piece you can rent at theatres which will give you a translation of what's going on if the plays in a different language.

[2] The romantic comedy Tsuri Onna (translated loosely means 'Fishing for a Wife').

[3] Prostitutes tied their obi (sash worn with kimono) at the front, the idea being that they'd be getting undressed again too soon to bother tying it at the back…watch samurai drama anime and you'll see it all the time!

[4] Known as Kakegoe, calls from knowledgeable members of the Kabuki audience which are a traditional form of applause and appreciation. The calls are either actors' yagō or acting-house name or his generation number. I made up the yagō 'Yuiro-ya'

[5] Sonezaki Shinjû a love tragedy where the cheated merchant and his lover (Ohatsu, a prostitute) commit suicide together.

Author's Notes:

Nichou- a loud double clack from the ki_ ten to fifteen minutes before the start of the play._

Confused? That's likely the case. The next chapter will clear up any doubt. Predictable? Perhaps…

I'm sorry, I really suck at describing costumes.

I don't think this is going to be a popular fic, so those of you who do read it, please review and tell me what you think.


	2. Onnagata

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or it's characters, neither do I have anything to do with the actors and plays mentioned in this fic __

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or it's characters, neither do I have anything to do with the actors and plays mentioned in this fic.

Warnings: (artistic) Cross-dressing, (eventual) Yaoi, (rationalised) OOC and if I told you the pairings it'd spoil it.

Authors Notes: You can find a picture of the costume Heero's wearing at the link below (well if Geocities ever works). It's a picture of Nakamura Ganjirō III, Japans national living treasure.

[http://www.geocities.com/miyamoto_musashi_25/kabuki.JPG][1]

__

I rationalise the OOC by saying that Heero's good at what ever he tries, and so if he was a good actor, he'd be able to do all of this OOC stuff…because he's acting…yeah.

****

****

Kabuki

Onnagata

The female lead of Sonezaki Shinjû glided down the hall way at the back of the theatre. Each drape and fold of the silk costume moved in perfect grace, kimono sleeves fluttering and each stride flashing the striking red fabric under the yellow over gown.

The actor had spent an eternity after the show arguing with the creative director, and that had made him late.

Wearily the figure stopped at a door, and pushed it open. Closing it after he had passed through, the wooden sandals were slipped off.

It was a small gakayu [1], and most of the floor being taken up by a luxury rug. On one side of the rug, stood a low dressing table and mirror obviously to be used by a person sitting on the rug.

The performer frowned at the sight of the make up bowls and jars still sitting on the mahogany table and carpet.

Where were the assistants? He wanted dearly to be able to take the wig and costume off, and go to a bar for needed drink.

Glancing at the jars once again, the performer stepped onto the rug and knelt down, the folds of silk falling perfectly.

Grumbling, the star started to put tools and bamboo brushes into various boxes and draws of the dresser.

~~

A certain braided man was definitely lost once again, this time in the back stage of the theatre. Duo had seen a delivery boy carrying a bouquet of flowers, and questioned the youth as to the intended recipient of the assorted red and white blooms.

Some time and $50 later, Duo was now carrying the flowers wondering aimlessly to find Room 4. Stagehands and technicians brushed past him in the narrow corridors.

Duo counted the numbers on the doors and finally stopped at the one he wanted.

But he paused with his fingers on the cold handle. Behind this door was the creature he'd seen on stage, but then again not… What was the real actress like? Would she even mind him here?

Any uncertainty was pushed from his mind as he knocked and resolutely gripped the handle. Duo had to see her one more time, there was something about her he was drawn to like a moth to a flame.

Duo opened the door and peered inside. To his surprise the object of his search was kneeling with her back to the door. He observed the lady for several moments, watching as she put small boxes into the draw of her dresser. The collar of her yellow kimono dipped low on her shoulders, still revealing white painted flesh.

Without looking back she started to speak, "Anata wa doko…" But the actress' foreign words trailed off when she turned around to find it was not her assistant at the door.

To Duo's surprise, she still wore her heavy costume and makeup. The actress stood with elegance, ruffling the kimono sleeves so that they hung straight.

However, Duo was pinned to the spot by the blue eyes outlined in red that now stared at him coldly. Up close she was all the more captivating.

Swallowing hard the American crept into dressing room, clutching to the flowers to his chest.

Putting on his most charming smile Duo started, "These flowers are for you."

The woman before him nodded and stepped forward to take the bouquet. Duo felt the smooth white hands brush his as she too the bundle from his grasp. He noted the heavy scent of wax [2].

Instead of standing to admire the delicate petals, she placed the flowers to the side of the Prussian rug. Turning back to Duo, she again stared at him.

Duo realised he had just been standing there looking. He licked his dry lips before continuing, "I saw you act on stage tonight, you were very good."

The white face remained blank, and silence hung in the air. Duo started to wonder if she even spoke English when a soft voice corrected him, "Thank you."

The American couldn't help but grin, the beauty had actually spoken to him! "My name's Duo Maxwell, may I ask yours?"

Apparently she didn't seem too impressed with the question, because a black painted eyebrow rose. Good one Maxwell, you should have known her name she's the famous star!

But she answered, "Yuy Heero the 2nd [3]."

The 2nd? Must be some Japanese thing. Duo done the only thing he knew how to, and reached forward with his hand.

She blinked at the appendage for a moment before hesitantly grasping it with her own. They gently shook hands before pulling away.

"May I call you Yuy?"

It was difficult to see the slight frown in the Japanese woman's face "Yuy? Do you mean call me by my first name?"

Duo started to panic, maybe asking that had offended her. "Um yeah, but I'm sorry…"

He was cut off when she shook her head; "Heero is my given name."

The American smiled again "Well can I call you Heero?"

The actress looked surprised, but slowly said, "Yes."

"The stuff you do looks pretty special." Duo said.

Thinking over the words Heero replied, "I am an Onnagata."

The American looked puzzled, trying to repeat the word, "Ona…gata?"

"Yes, an Onnagata, I specialise in female roles."

Duo mentally shrugged, strange things happen in translation but he wasn't about to give up yet with the quiet woman, "This was the first time I've seen this type of theatre, but what struck me was how beautiful you looked." 

The intended flattery seemed to provoke a reaction in the Japanese lady, for she turned away and only replied, "Hn."

There was a knock at the door and Duo turned to see a casually dressed Japanese man enter the room. He looked confused at Duo, then to Heero.

Heero scowled at the young man asking harshly, "Where have you been? You're late."

The assistant bowed offering his apologies.

The actress looked back to Duo, who smiled when he caught the blue glare. But the American started to feel a blush rise to his cheeks. Now that the assistant was here she'd surely want to get changed out of that costume, and all he could do was gawp at her!

Fumbling for the handle behind him, Duo started stumbling over his words "Well…thanks for…talking to me, I had better…go. Goodbye!"

The American ducked out the door and closed it with a clack. Leaning heavily on the wooden door he took deep breaths. His mind wondered to Heero on the other side of the door, peeling off layers of silk…

Wait, he hadn't given her his telephone number!

~~

Heero saw the American dash out the room and hastily closed the door. How odd that had been.

Fans often came with flowers and gifts, but most people got scared off with the Yuy glare. But the American (wasn't Duo his name?) seemed unfazed.

The actor turned and berated the Assistant once more to hurry, and a high stool was placed in the middle of the rug.

Gathering folds of silk Heero sat down, and helped his assistant heave the heavy wig from his head, ornaments jangling. It came away and he left the assistant to deal with storing it.

Heero tore the white cap that had been used to keep his hair covered away, and immediately sweaty dark hair fell into his eyes.

The performance had been particularly hot, and the wig only served to give him a headache.

Standing, Heero started to untie the obi of the Ohatsu the 19-year-old prostitute.

~~

Duo stood outside the theatre's stage door, waiting impatiently. He'd been here for over an hour, and he'd seen most of the staff leave.

He'd been determined to give the actress his telephone number, but he was sure that each face that went by was not that of Heero Yuy's.

It was now dark and getting late, and road sweepers were starting to clear the uptown street. 

Leaning against the wall Duo started to think about Heero again, her movements, her voice, her eyes…

He heard the door open again and Duo jumped around to see who was leaving. It was a young man about his age with messy dark brown hair. He was dressed in jeans and a turtleneck, with a heavy looking duffel bag slung over one shoulder.

Duo had had enough and stepped in front of the Japanese man, effectively blocking his path.

"Excuse me," Duo asked, "Is there anyone left from the Kabuki Theatre Company?"

Oddly familiar blue eyes glared at him from beneath the dark hair. "No, I am the last person."

Duo visibly sagged, he must had missed her. She'd either slipped out without him noticing, or he just hadn't recognised her.

He murmured a "Thank you" and slopped off in the direction of his motorbike.

Heero watched the man walk slowly down the street. That was Duo wasn't it? Why was he hanging around outside the theatre?

The Japanese man rubbed his aching forehead. He didn't have time to be thinking about crazy Americans, he only wanted to go to his accommodation, have a drink, then sleep.

Hefting his bag onto his shoulder, Heero walked the opposite way from Duo.

__

To Be Continued

[1] Gakayu- dressing room

[2] I believe they drip hot wax onto wigs so it keeps its shape…well I know they done that with Geisha (real) hair

[3] Kabuki actors come from a long family lines of actors, so it's common to see II, IV etc added onto actors names

Author's notes: 

I'm sorry for the gender thing, I kept referring to Heero as 'she' because it was more Duo's POV, I hope it wasn't too confusing.

Duo's being so dumb…but if Duo was being clever in this fic there wouldn't be much of a story right?

In case anyone's not realised, all Kabuki actors are male, even the ones playing the female parts. Onnagata are the actors that specialise in female roles.

   [1]: http://www.geocities.com/miyamoto_musashi_25/kabuki.JPG



	3. Mochi

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or it's characters, neither do I have anything to do with the actors and plays mentioned in this fic __

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or it's characters, neither do I have anything to do with the actors and plays mentioned in this fic.

Warnings: (artistic) Cross-dressing, (eventual) Yaoi, (kinda) OOC

****

Kabuki

****

Mochi

Heero stormed into the stage entrance of the theatre, his shoes squealing on the tiled corridors. Stagehands and technicians pressed themselves flat against the walls when they saw the temperamental actor approach. All assistants only seemed to breathe when they were certain Heero had passed.

A few sharp turns and he arrived at his gakayu door, and hastily unlocked it. After passing inside Heero slammed the door shut behind him.

Rubbing his finger along the edge of the metal key, he decided to lock it from the inside, and leave the key in the lock.

Kicking off his shoes he slouched down onto the smooth tatami [1] mats and sat savouring the silence.

It had been a difficult morning with the creative director, also his co-actor and father. Nothing seemed to go right, and the constant criticisms from Odin Lowe didn't seem to help. The rehearsal had degraded into heated words and slurs being thrown about.

Heero had decided to act under his real name, not a stage name like his father. He thought that by not sharing his name, he'd be able to escape constant comparisons and pressures.

But it appeared that his father had not left behind the role of Ohatsu he'd handed down to Heero shortly after his son's astronomical debut into professional acting. 

Heero always saw the twinge of resentment when his father looked at him, for rising to acclaim so young, to the point of overshadowing his father.

Kneeling onto the rug Heero noticed his costume folded and waiting to be worn at this afternoon's performance. He sighed and pushed it away off the red carpet hiding it from view. For an hour he wished to escape Ohatsu, just one hour.

But when Heero's eyes met his own reflection in the dressing table mirror, he wondered if it was possible to ever escape the role that had made his life.

He was broken from his musings when he saw the plain white cardboard box sitting to the side of the low dressing table. 

Curiously, Heero pulled the box to him and gingerly opened the lid. Inside he could only see layers of soft white tissue paper.

Lifting away the translucent pieces of paper, he frowned at what he saw in the box.

Reaching in, he gently tugged out a blue and white cotton robe. It was a yukata [2] with a repeating dark blue pattern of small leaf and flower shapes.

Pulling it completely free he noted the simple design and stiff fabric, it was so much different from the costumes he was used to wearing.

Somewhere within the folds of tissue paper and fabric a small white card dropped free. Dropping the yukata onto his lap, Heero picked up the piece of card.

The Japanese man flipped the card over and printed on it was Duo Maxwell, and a telephone number below.

He tapped the card a few times, and touched the fabric again.

Fishing through some of his personal belongings, he pulled out his mobile phone.

Looking at the card, he carefully pressed the numbers on the keypad.

Heero cleared his throat as the phone started ringing.

Five rings and the phone was picked up.

The American voice on the other end sounded relaxed and casual, "Duo Maxwell."

Heero paused, now not sure what to say. "This is Heero Yuy…you've sent me something…"

But the enthusiastic American cut him off; "Oh it's you Heero! I hope you didn't mind me sending the gift. It just looked difficult to wear your costume, the lady in the shop said you could relax in what I sent and stuff…"

The chatter sent Heero into a reel; it was difficult talking in English over the phone unable to see the other person's lips move with the words. Thinking through what Duo had said, he slowly replied, "Why did you send it?"

There was a pause from Duo, and it wasn't from language problems. "Well, kinda as a thank you, for the great performance…and to say…"

Heero frowned as the words trailed off, "What do you mean?"

"To say…I like you."

He likes me? Heero's expression turned to that confusion as the words ran through his mind. He likes me? What the American really meant started to dawn on the actor.

His mouth gently opened in shock, sure he'd had fans projecting a whole manner of strange feelings onto him…but this was different. Something about Duo was intriguing him, piquing his curiosity. Why had the American gone to the trouble to buy a yukata in this foreign city? To think of the times when he wasn't Ohatsu…?

"Heero?" Duo's voice broke into the silence that had passed.

"Hn, yes."

The American proceeded more cautiously, "I hope you don't mind me--"

But the Japanese man cut him off, "No, not at all. I'd like to thank you in person."

Duo sounded more cheerful at the suggestion, "When are you available?"

Ah, Heero mulled this question over. He hadn't really any free time at all for the next week or so, most of it dedicated to rehearsing or performing. But there was one time the next day he could see Duo.

"Tomorrow, I have a publicity shoot and interview for an arts magazine. You can meet me afterwards."

"Yeah that would be fine!"

A smirk slowly crossed Heero's lips; he gave the details of where the photo-shoot was, a local park and the time to be there.

"So I'll see you tomorrow right Heero?"

"Un [3], of course."

The happy voice said, "Good. See ya Heero!"

"Goodbye." The actor disconnected the phone and chucked it to the side.

Odin would not be happy about this; he disliked the cast (or rather just his son) socialising too much while touring. Especially on publicity matters. Tough, Heero thought.

The actor stood, holding out the yukata in front of him allowing it to unfold to its full length. He slid the cotton fabric over his tank top and jeans. It was indeed a nice garment, and Duo had brought it for him.

But his blue eyes strayed to the clock, and he realised that he should start putting his makeup on soon. 

Time to become Ohatsu, and forget about being Heero, as everyone else did.

__

To Be Continued.

__

[1] Tatami- rice straw matting, smells really nice and sweet.

[2] Yukata- a cotton robe worn in summer or as a dressing gown, like a kimono but with no lining

[3] 'Un' is a sound of agreement used in Japanese.

Author's Notes: Mochi are sweets made from rice…it's a really bad pun on the word 'sweet' and Heero's reaction to the gift…

Sorry this has taken so long to write, I was rather undecided about a few details. But now it's done what do people think? I'm a review junkie…pity me.


	4. Kumadori

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or it's characters, neither do I have anything to do with the actors and plays mentioned in this fic __

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or it's characters, neither do I have anything to do with the actors and plays mentioned in this fic.

Warnings: AU, (artistic) Cross-dressing, (eventual) Yaoi, 1x2, OOC galore

****

Kabuki

****

Kumadori

The camera shutter clacked shut another time. Heero tried not to roll his eyes when the photographer gave him directions for another pose. The actor lifted the paper fan he was holding until it partially obscured his painted face.

Clack.

He had arranged to meet the photographer and journalist at the entrance of the park, imagine the shock on their faces when he'd turned up looking normal.

They had to hastily explain to him that they'd arranged the photo shoot with Heero in costume. A heated conversation on a mobile phone with the Press and Publicity manager and some negotiations later, the Japanese man had to be ushered into a taxi to be taken back to the theatre.

Heero shifted his arm to allow the sleeve to hang straight at his side, giving the photographer a good angle to picture the magenta tinged silk. He then rested one hand on the arch of the wooden gazebo the photographer had decided to shoot on

Clack.

It had been a rush to put all the make-up on and have his assistants help dress the performer. Then Heero and a couple of assistants had to all bundle into a cab, and head back to the park. It was ridiculous, unprofessional even. But the Publicity Manager insisted his father had already agreed with the sponsors.

The young man put on a false smile for the camera, and it clicked once more before the machine churned when it finished the roll of film.

Heero instantly dropped his pose and walked as quickly as he could past the photographer's own assistants who were starting to adjust equipment.

The accompanying stagehands rushed to Heero's side, smoothing his costume. He ignored them and someone gave him a water bottle to drink from.

The plastic bottle left his lips with a smear of red lipstick on the narrow rim.

Looking over the bottle, the actor froze when in the distance he noticed someone sitting far away on the grass watching the shoot. The long braid sparked a memory.

Duo, he was supposed to be meeting Duo.

Heero pushed the bottle into his assistant's hands and shouted at them, "I want a break, tell them that! Do not disturb me for at least five minuets." He snapped the fan shut to add emphasis to his words.

A young assistant nodded dumbly and Heero walked away from them on the paved path of the park. He naturally took small strides in the wooden geta [1], the sandals making a familiar clack with each step. He stuffed the closed bamboo fan into the folds of the purple obi tied at the front.

Duo had seen his approach, had stood and started walking down the path to meet Heero. The American was smiling widely to see the Actor.

They stopped with a few feet between them, and suddenly Heero felt conscious of the situation. He was in full costume, in the middle of a park. Luckily it was not busy, and there were only a few spectators in the distance.

This is not what Heero had planned; he'd wanted to meet Duo in a normal fashion to talk privately. But now the make-up and silk stood between them like a gloss of fresh paint. What's more Heero had to return to theatre to change and reapply his make-up for the afternoon matinee, leaving only a few minuets to talk.

Duo happily greeted the actor, "Hello, I didn't expect to be seeing you like this again."

The Japanese man sighed, "I did not expect this too. There was a change of plan and it's made everything late."

"That's okay, these things can't be helped." Duo's violet eyes sparkled merrily, happy to just see Heero again.

Trying to restrain any emotion on his whited face, Heero began, "I wanted to thank you properly for the gift."

Duo interjected, "No really it's okay."

But the actor held up his hand and shook his head making the ornaments in the wig rattle, "No, I must." Heero began, "Domo ariga—ah sorry I nearly thanked you in Japanese." He resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. It didn't seem he could do nothing right in front of the American, and was merrily making a fool of himself.

"It's fine by me if you want to say it in Japanese."

Heero was surprised, his lips parted in question that would never voice itself. But he resolutely said, "Domo arigato gozaimasu, Duo-san. [2]" He clasped his hands above his knee, and bowed to the American [3].

When he rose back up the actor saw the smile on Duo's face had softened. "I can see your busy," said the braided man, "but I'd really like to be able to have a chat to you some other time, maybe not in that costume?" His voice was tinged with playfulness.

If it weren't for the white make-up, you'd have been able to see the slight blush on Heero's cheeks. He stumbled, "Yes, I'd like that too."

"A meal maybe?"

Heero swallowed and thought, "Next Thursday there is no show…then?"

Duo nodded happily.

The actor glanced behind himself, and saw one of the stagehands walking on the path towards them. He frowned realising that time was up. Turning back to Duo he started offering his apologies, "I'm sorry, I have to go now to finish the photo shoot."

The American nodded again understanding, "Sure thing. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, I will call you to arrange details."

Giving a quick bow, Heero swiftly turned to walk down the path. The geta clicked once again on the hard path. The assistant was coming closer and Heero gave one last glance behind himself. 

Duo was still standing there, and gave a forlorn wave.

Heero's lips twitched into a smile, before his face went neutral again to face the stagehand coming ever closer.

The actor was now looking forward to when he'd be able to meet Duo fully as himself.

__

To Be Continued.

[1] Geta- traditional wooden sandals, recognisable by the two wooden wedges which are stood on.

[2] Thank you very much, Duo.

[3] Heero bowed as a woman, as opposed to both hands at his side like a man. I ration that since he's in costume, he's going to be used to making feminine gestures.

Author's Notes: Kumadori is a style of make-up.

The titles may not seem connected much to the chapters, but there are abstract links in my bizarre mind.

Mmm…not too much of an exciting chapter…but I gotta have a build up. Reviews are always appreciated.


	5. Sewamono

_Disclaimer: GW and its characters owned by Bandai Inc._

Kabuki

**Sewamono**

Quatre ran his fingers over the laminated menu. The young man was sitting at an outside table of contemporary café. It was a hot so he decided that it would be better to sit outside, being able to watch people walk down the street in the lunchtime rush.

But his blue eyes flicked over to empty seat opposite. His dining companion was as usual…late. The blond sighed and leaned forward onto his elbow, resting his chin on his hand. Yuppies taking their time over their long lunches chatted around him.

His daydreaming was broken when someone plonked himself down heavily in the chair opposite. Quatre looked up and smiled at Duo, whose cheeks were flushed from the warm afternoon, and now grateful to be in the shade of the café Verno.

The braided man was leaning back heavily in the metal chair, desperately trying to fan himself with the stiff plastic menu.

A smile tugged it's self onto Quatre's face, and he said, "Good Afternoon."

Duo momentarily stopped his fanning, and opened his eyes to peer at his friend. "Quatre, I'm so sorry I'm late…I had to finish some things, and then find somewhere to park the bike and--"

But the Arab held up his hand to interrupt his friend, "It's fine Duo, I've not been waiting long."

They settled down and ordered their usual meals.

Quatre looked oddly at his friend. Duo was leaning back on his chair, his head turned to watch the crowds wondering down the street. His rouge lips were pulled into a small smile, he was evidently miles away.

"Earth to Duo, can you read me?" The blond teased.

The American was pulled out of his musings, and blinked innocently at Quatre. The businessman raised a slender eyebrow at his friend, "What's this all about?"

"What's what about?"

Quatre grinned slyly, "You know. The school girl in luuuv look."

Duo blushed and reached for the glass of water to take a long drink. The Arab laughs, "That's it! So spill, what's her name?"

Still drinking from the glass, Duo raised an eyebrow at his companion.

The friend tries to look mock offended, "Now that's just mean Duo, you've got to tell me who it is."

The braided man puts down the now empty glass and wipes his mouth. "If I tell you her name, you'll tell Trowa, and then even the circus will know."

Quatre rolled his eyes, "Fine fine! But don't expect me to not grill you."

"I expect nothing less"

A waiter interrupted them, and placed warmed plates in front of them. Quatre daintily flicked open his serviette laying it on his lap, "Is she from the city?"

"No…she's foreign."

"So what does she do for a living?"

Duo regained that dreamy look on his face, "She's an actress…"

"An actress? What sort of things does she act in? Soaps? Any adverts?"

The American gave his friend a hurt look, and violently stabbed some colourful pasta with his fork. "No, Theatre."

The blond winced, "Ah sorry Duo, it's pretty classy for you eh?"

This time Duo stopped from his eating and glared, "For me?"

Quatre bit his lip at the faux pas, eager to back track, "Well you know the type you usually go for, like last time…Hilde was it?"

Duo shock his head, "I don't want to talk about Hilde."

The blond sighed and looked at his friend who was trying to avoid his gaze, "You shouldn't blame yourself for what happened." A shrug of shoulders, and Quatre carried on "We know how hard you took it when you caught her…like that."

Duo was absently staring at his plate, but his eyes flicked over to his friend, "I haven't even thought about other women since Hilde…but this is different."

The violet-eyed man sighed and looked up from the plate, "She's beautiful, coy and…unique." Duo shyly cleared his throat and finished what was left.

His blond friend smiled, it was touching to see Duo without his brash exterior.

The plates were cleared away, and Quatre patted his mouth with the starched serviette. "Well, I hope things work out for you Duo."

_To Be Continued._

_Notes: Sewamono domestic dramas or plays dealing with the lives of ordinary people._


	6. Karen

_Disclaimer: GW and its characters owned by Bandai Inc._

Kabuki Karen 

Heero Yuy sat at the small table of the Japanese restaurant nervously playing with the packet of wooden chopsticks. He peeled apart the two sticks and sighed in dismay when they did not break evenly at the top. He'd suggested the restaurant because he thought Duo might be interested in trying something different, and he'd already been to the place a few times before.

It had taken him longer to prepare for this 'date' than any of his shows. Various outfits and clothes had been tried on only to be taken off again in favour of another combination. In the end he settled on a simple dark grey Vesace suit and tight black t-shirt underneath. Heero had been hoping to strike a balance between casual and smart, the worry of going to far either way nagged at him constantly. However his hair laid in it's usual spiked mess over his cold blue eyes. 

He lifted the teacup and sipped the cooling green tea, trying to savour the bitter taste to take his mind off his nerves. It wasn't often he got out like this, away from his company. He secretly had high hopes for this night. The Japanese man was about to start playing with his chopsticks again, when he heard a familiar voice from the doorway. He looked up to see the man he'd been waiting for, as if he'd just stepped out of a dream.

~~

Duo cautiously stepped into the wooden floored restaurant and quickly scanned the restaurant to see if he could spot Heero. There were already a few tables full, but not that many to be busy. He couldn't spot the person he was looking for, but a waitress came over to greet him. He smiled at her and adjusted the dark plum suit, making sure the bright green open shirt was not being ruffled. "I'm here to meet Heero Yuy?"

The oriental girl nodded in understanding and started to lead the way though the tables. The butterflies battering around in his stomach quickened with the thought of meeting the Japanese lady again. The waitress suddenly stopped and gestured to a double table.

A dark haired man sitting at the table stood up. The waitress disappeared to fetch some Menus leaving the two to stare at each other. The Japanese man who had stood up was unsure if to bow, shake hands or say hello and it got mixed up in a series of awkward half gestures. In the end he reached across for one of Duo's soft hands. "Hello Duo, it's nice to see you again."

The American was silent in his confusion. "Where's Heero?" He blurted.

The Japanese man let go of his hand and glanced down at the floor in either embarrassment or disappointment. "I am Heero…you've never seen me like this…you must not recognise me." He trailed off and sat down not looking back up at Duo

The braided man slowly sat down, in time of for the waitress to return with the menus. His mind tried to quickly rationalise what as happening. There was no doubt that the angles showed by the expensive suit were masculine; and that was Heero Yuy… Heero Yuy was a man. Duo couldn't believe he hadn't realised for so long. He wasn't sure what to think either.

"What would you like?" The soft voice opposite interrupted Duo's frantic thoughts. He realised he hadn't even been looking at the menu.

"I don't know…you'll be better at this, you can order for me."

"Do you like Sushi?" 

Duo flicked through the laminated pages, and nodded numbly. He didn't want to look at Heero, but eventually he did look up. Heero was staring at him with those same Prussian blue eyes, some how the nervousness had gone to be replaced with a hard stare.

~~

Heero's eyes made contact with his dining partners. He'd felt disappointment flow through him at Duo's reaction to seeing him 'normal'. He wondered if some of the magic and beauty had disappeared for the young American. The actor wondered why he thought Duo would be any different. 

The waitress came over, and Heero said, "A bottle of hot Sake…would you like to drink with me?"

His eyes flicked over to Duo, and the American realised the question was for him. He nodded dumbly. Heero continued to list the order and the waitress scribbled it down on the notepad. When he was finished, she nodded and took the menus away with her.

The both sat there in ominous silence.

The bottle was brought in a warmer, and Heero poured it into both the small cups. Quickly lifting the cup to his lips, he downed it in one. He refilled his cup again, but this time left it to sip. It was terribly rude of him to do that, but he felt he needed the alcohol to get through this meal. He sipped from his cup and was glad to feel a warm blush cross his cheeks. The rice wine slid easily down his throat, despite the slight burn it gave.

The Japanese man looked at Duo, he couldn't read the expression on the American's face. Neither did he want to. His cup was already empty and he reached for the bottle to refill it and top up Duo's. He could see the American was staring at him with pity, but he refused to acknowledge it.

Duo softly cleared his throat, "So can you tell me a little about the Kabuki?"

~~

Heero nimbly picked up the last slice of bright pink raw fish and placed it delicately into his mouth. As soon as he swallowed he drank back the last of his sake. 

Duo watched as the young actor's once bright eyes developed dullness to them. The American sadly nursed the last of his drink. He was embarrassed at himself at not realising the situation earlier. But he had always thought it was Heero the beautiful actress…not actor, although he couldn't deny the dark haired man was beautiful. He had a dark exotic charm of him that oozed emotion…

The noisy scraping of the chair brought Duo back from his musing as Heero searched in his pocket presumably for his wallet.

"Sorry to leave so soon, but I have early rehearsal. I hope you enjoyed the meal." Heero didn't look at the stunned braided man still sitting; instead he focused on trying to count out the right amount from the wad of notes. The colourful bills landed on the table and Heero frostily made to leave. But as he stood, Prussian eyed man realised he'd been getting drunk from the legs up. He steadied himself on a chair, before trying to make his way dignified exit from the restaurant.

Heero ignored the waitress trying to say a goodbye as he stumbled outside. It was raining hard, but he didn't care. He stood by the roadside trying to spot a taxi among the oncoming traffic, each vehicle with its headlights glaring into the darkness. The actor was dazzled but he held his arm out in the hope of some cab driver spotting him. The rain was starting to soak his hair, plastering it to his forehead and neck. The cold water was starting to seep down the back of his neck.

He took a few steps down the road, desperate to get away. Not before long a taxi did stop by the roadside. He opened the door and took one last look back. Duo was standing in the doorway watching him. Heero was glad that due to the rainwater, the American would not be able to see the hot angry tears building in his eyes. 

Flinging himself onto the back seat of the cab, he slammed the door closed and told the driver the address of his residence.

The car pulled away, and the lone figure in the door way became blurred with the rest of the scenery. 

_To Be Continued._

_Notes: Karen- stage tricks. All clothing taken from Graham Norton._


End file.
